Realization
by NKfloofiepoof
Summary: A gift story for Neon Tiger. After being kidnapped and taken hostage by Mavericks, X is interrogated by Vile, but it's not the kind of interrogation he expected...


A/N: I wrote this as a story trade with Neon Tiger, and it's about damn time I finished it. ;; Anyway. This is shounen ai, meaning two boys flirting with each other. It's also total sap and full of OOC-ness. Leave now or be traumatized by the crappiness.

Water dropped down from the ceiling with a continuous, annoying _drip...drip_ sound, making a dull splash in the small puddles scattered around the cell. The air was frigid, almost freezing, the prisoner's breath fogging the air as he panted in both exhaustion and agony. Dust clogged his senses. He was the first to be put in this cell in a long time. The metal-and-stone hybrid walls were almost completely obscured by darkness, the only light coming from the small, six-inch-wide hole in the solid metal door across from him, the light making the water on the walls and floor glisten as if the walls and floor were covered with glitter. The room was cold, dark, and damp and made him shiver in his confinements.

It also smelled.

Rockman X Light shivered in his constraints. His arms ached from his shoulders to his wrists, and he briefly wondered if his shoulders were eventually going to be dislocated from being suspended so far from the ceiling by his wrists for so long. His dark brown bangs continually fell down into his eyes as he shivered from the frigid air of his cell.

He wished he could at least put his toes on the ground to get just a little pressure off of his shoulders and wrists from where they were shackled painfully over his head, his feet dangling almost a foot from the ground. His armor had been confiscated, leaving him wearing only the skin tight, blue-grey jumpsuit he wore underneath.

"I'm so stupid..." he whispered, voice shuddering as he shivered violently. He could barely believe he had fallen victim to such an obvious trap. He remembered receiving the call that Mavericks had been spotted near the Hunter Headquarters and had insisted that he investigate it alone. It had been exactly what the Mavericks had hoped for, and they had been able to very easily overtake him and make him their prisoner.

X sighed. He knew what they wanted. They would try to torture him into giving away valuable information regarding the Hunters, and then they would either kill him or infect him with the Maverick Virus. X shivered at the thought and sneezed, sniffing. He had been in the cell for approximately two days according to his internal chronometer, and the frigid air had already affected his immune system. Two days since he had fallen victim to such a ridiculous trap. Cold sweat trickled down his back, produced by the nightmares he had been having. Nightmares of being a Maverick. An ice-hearted, blood-craving Maverick who feasted upon the bodies of dead humans.

X shivered again, sniffing. This shiver sent a tremor up his arms and through the shackles, the trembling and sudden change in tension in the chains all that was needed for his shoulders to give up on him.

X sucked in a breath and screamed as his left shoulder popped out of the socket with a wet crack, pain shooting up his arm as if his blood had turned into a river of fire. X squeezed his eyes shut as tears spilled down his face, holding back sobs.

_ I'm so stupid..._

* * * * *

X glanced up slowly, painfully, squinting into the blinding light from the open door. The light hurt his eyes -- he guessed that he had been in the cell for four days now, his eyes finally growing somewhat accustomed to the darkness. A shadow blocked out the light as someone entered the cell, heavy steps plodding closer and closer to the captive. X would have tried to twist away as large hands reached for him, but pain from his arm and hunger had sucked away his strength. It was all he could do just to keep his head up.

A hand decorated with claws closed around X's waist, the other hand reaching up and unhooking the chain connected to the shackles around his wrists, freeing X from his prone position dangling from the ceiling. X flopped weakly into the Maverick's massive arms, kicking weakly though his movement only made his shoulder hurt worse. The Maverick scoffed at his futile struggling.

"Commander Vile insisted that he be the one to interrogate you," the Maverick snickered, its voice a deep mixture of a growl and a purr. X squinted, trying to place a face to the voice in the darkness. The Maverick turned and walked out, carrying X in its massive arms. X yelled and squeezed his eyes shut at the blinding light that met him outside the room, his voice barely a croak from dryness and lack of use. As his eyes very slowly became accustomed to the change in light, he began slowly opening his eyes to get a good idea of his surroundings. Lights lined the ceiling, the Maverick carrying him -- Crescent Grizzly, he finally identified -- passing under them steadily as he quickly walked down the corridors of the base.

X tried to kick his captor again, a futile effort to which Crescent Grizzly only laughed. The large Maverick dropped X's legs, gripping his left arm and throwing him into the wall. X bit back a scream as pain flared in his arm and shoulder again, his unprotected head smashing into the metal wall painfully. Spots of red and white danced across his vision as he was gathered into the Maverick's enormous arms again and carried further down the hallway, Crescent Grizzly's gruff, hissing laugh barely registering in X's pain-clogged mind.

The smell of blood and sickness suddenly flooded his senses, making his eyes water, and he guessed that he had been taken to the medical bay. He heard voices somewhere in the background of the deafening sound of blood rushing to his head, squinting into the bright lights of the room to try to see who Crescent Grizzly was talking to, straining his ears to listen.

"You got it," was the only thing he heard Overdrive Ostrich say before a needle slipped into X's neck and he was injected with something. X panicked, expecting it to be the Maverick Virus. With the help of a surge of artificial adrenaline, he was able to jerk out of Crescent Grizzly's arms and fall to the floor on his right side, surprising both Mavericks. X painfully scrambled to his feet, running out of the medical bay and bolting down the hallway, the bright lights surrounding him making his vision nearly useless. He heard Crescent Grizzly roar, Overdrive Ostrich scoffing.

He was probably halfway to the end of the hallway before the nullifier took full affect and his vision clouded over with darkness.

* * * * *

His shoulder still hurt, but the pain was much less prominent now, left arm immobile. His head throbbed where he had been thrown into the wall, his wrists aching slightly, probably bruised. His eyes were closed, scent and hearing his dominant senses. Whatever room he was in now _still_ reeked. Did the Mavericks know the meaning of 'house cleaning'?

No, wait...that horrid smell was _him_.

X felt fingers tracing his cheeks gently, timidly, carefully turning his head from side to side slowly. X slowly opened grass green eyes, hesitating as if he expected to be struck for opening his eyes. The sight before him was not exactly welcome.

Violet eyes narrowed behind the shadows of a royal purple helmet, a T-shaped opening in the front of the helmet shading the owner's face. He was wearing simple, violet armor with light blue and red trimming, not the bulky battle armor X was used to seeing him in, the large cannon he usually wore on his shoulder discarded. X had expected it, but his first reaction still managed to escape despite the pain in the back of his head.

The Maverick Hunter yelped, trying to scramble backwards and away, but stumbling as his left arm refused to move. Vile dropped his right hand from where it had been touching X's face, silent, content to just watch his captive for now. X's green eyes were large, darting around the room as he tried to assess where he was.

It was quite obviously someone's room -- Vile's, X guessed -- plain and barely decorated, the entire room the same dull, cobalt blue as the rest of the Maverick Headquarters interior. X was lying on the large bed decorated in white, his left arm strapped and taped to his chest so that he could not move it and injure it further. His shoulder was nestled safely back in its socket, he realized after a moment, and a brief check ensured him that he had not been stripped.

X glanced at his shoulder, then slowly back to Vile who had stood, arms crossed over his violet-armored chest. Now that his captor was standing, X was able to get a better look at how Vile was armored, an ash grey jumpsuit covering him with the only real armor being his chestplate, violet gauntlets, and violet boots, all lined with light blue, red slashes decorating the boots.

"Yes, I repaired your shoulder," Vile spoke. X was unable to prevent himself from blinking, taken aback at how...different Vile's voice was. He remembered the Maverick Commander's voice being mostly mechanical -- a menacing hiss. Now his voice was a low, somewhat scratchy baritone, the "scratchiness" a scar from damage he had apparently taken to his throat a long time past.

"Wh-Why..?" X asked, his voice cracked, broken, and painful. He received no response as Vile turned away, retrieving a bottle of water from the nightstand and holding it out to the captive. X blinked at it, then up at Vile.

"It's never been opened, so I can promise that it's not drugged if you want it," Vile said simply. X hesitated, but nodded slowly. He could see the lid of the bottle had, indeed, not been opened, and he could not think of any other way it could have been drugged. Vile opened the bottle and handed it to X who timidly took it with his good hand, slowly drinking, his dry, sore throat welcoming the moisture gratefully. Vile left the side of the bed to check the entrance to his room and make sure it was locked, another set of buttons controlling a soundproofing function. X's eyes narrowed and scanned the rest of the room, noting that the only other entrance to the room was the door to the bathroom.

No escape.

"The smell's not bothering me, but you can take a shower if you want," Vile spoke, making X jump and nearly spill the water all over the bed. X glanced at the violet-clad Reploid, hesitating to respond. Why was Vile being so...docile? X started to refuse. What was to keep Vile from attacking him while his guard was down? "If I wanted to kill you, I could have done that while you were asleep," Vile pointed out as if reading X's mind, crossing his arms once more as he watched his captive, "And if I wanted any harm done to you, I wouldn't have fixed your shoulder." X blinked, realizing the truth in those two statements. "And don't worry," Vile spoke again, "I won't peek."

X's face flushed, but he said nothing, sitting in silence for a moment before slowly, carefully sliding off the bed and standing. He tensed when Vile slid behind him, but forced himself to relax as the Maverick commander removed the tape and bandages from X's arm. His shoulder ached horribly, but it no longer throbbed, so he could tolerate it. He glanced over his shoulder once or twice as he quietly made his way to the bathroom, making sure Vile was staying at a safe distance before closing the bathroom door behind him and allowing himself to relax, if only minimally.

The feeling of being _clean_, however, numbed his uneasiness temporarily as he let the warm water from the shower soak him, scrubbing his skin until it turned red from the abuse, the few flesh wounds from the battle so long ago breaking and oozing blood as he cleaned them, checking for infection. He kept his hearing alert, listening for footsteps headed in the direction of the bathroom or any footfalls other than Vile's. X soaked the washcloth and wrapped it over his left shoulder to let the warmth saturate the bruised muscle underneath, further relieving tension and pain and easing the lingering swelling.

If there was any shampoo, X could not find it, so he settled for washing his hair with soap, rinsing several times before he was finally satisfied that he was completely clean again. Even then, he still felt the lingering feeling of grime, but finally convinced himself that it was his imagination. The water was getting cold, anyway, so he turned it off and grabbed a towel to dry himself, wincing as the fabric stung his wounds. He glanced down at his jumpsuit and stuck his tongue out, not wanting to put the filthy, smelly piece of clothing back on, but he had nothing else to wear. Silently promising to himself to burn it if he ever returned to the Hunter Headquarters, X sighed and pulled the jumpsuit back on, ignoring his still sore shoulder's protest.

X slowly opened the bathroom door, watching and listening for any sign of an attack. Vile was standing near the bed, but that did not rule out the possibility of an ambush. X gave the room a quick glance before carefully, casually opening the door completely, sweeping it back until the knob touched the wall behind it, satisfying at least one lump of nervousness in the pit of his stomach now that he knew there was no one hiding behind the door -- no one else in the room but Vile and himself. Vile turned to glance at him, arms crossed over his armored chest.

"Better?" Vile asked. X hesitated, but merely nodded. Vile rested his hands on his hips, tilting his head. "Hungry?" X shook his head immediately, ignoring his stomach's protest. "Thirsty?" Again, X shook his head. It could not be seen, but the Maverick Hunter could _feel_ Vile's grin. "Is it just because of me, or are you always this 'talkative'?" X felt his face flush, and he looked away. He tensed when Vile stepped closer, resisting the urge to jerk away as the Maverick commander reached up and cupped X's chin in his hand, turning his head to one side. X's eyes narrowed, but he did his best to keep his expression blank, eyes locked onto the violet-armored Reploid.

"Can I ask where these marks came from?" Vile finally asked. X blinked. "The bruises on your face. They're too old to have come from your capture, and that's the first time you've been involved in an attack in about a month." X narrowed his eyes again, unsure whether he should answer the question or not.

Finally, he decided no true harm could come from it and answered as he slowly pulled his head out of Vile's grip, "Zero." He looked up at the Maverick, trying to see if he could read any expression through the shadows of his helmet. "I screwed up a few weeks ago. He punished me."

There was a brief pause before Vile shook his head, reaching back up and cupping X's chin. "No..." he spoke, "I know a lot about bruises, X. And I can tell that he intended to hurt you." X stiffened despite his attempt to remain emotionless. "Any reason why he was abusing you?" X jerked away, taking a step back until his back pressed against the wall. Vile blinked at the reaction, but let the question drop, taking a small step forward to close the distance between himself and X, once again reaching up to trace a finger along the bruises marring X's left cheek. X flinched visibly, almost wincing even at the bare touch. Vile tilted his head, expression still unreadable due to the shadows underneath his helmet. "Contact obviously bothers you, and I'm barely touching you...does Zero touch you gently?" X just stared at him, grass green eyes wide, not bothering to hide his fear anymore now that his emotional ground had been shaken, hands trembling slightly as he weakly gripped the wall. "...has his touch always been harmful?" X tried to shift his strength to his legs to keep his knees from shaking under Vile's gaze, using the wall for support, the question barely registering in his mind for a moment.

Finally, he nodded; quickly, almost wishing beyond hope that the subject would change.

Vile's eyes narrowed and he reached up. X squeezed his eyes shut, expecting to be hit, but blinked when the larger Reploid's fingers gently ran through his hair. X moved his gaze upwards to the Maverick commander slowly, cautiously, expression showing his confusion. Vile tilted his head, fingers still gently running through X's soft, brown locks. "I can't imagine why he'd hurt you..." His voice turned cold as his eyes narrowed further. "But whatever the reason, you didn't deserve it." His hand slid down from X's hair to cup his chin again. "And he doesn't deserve you. You're much too precious to be treated so heartlessly."

X attempted to shy away from Vile's fingers, failing at his attempt to keep himself from cringing as he muttered in response, "I deserved it...I messed up...I got him mad."

"Whatever you did, Zero had no reason to beat you," Vile countered, half-growling.

"...I'm too stupid to know any better...I should have done what he told me..."

"He's the stupid one. He couldn't do whatever it was, himself."

"...I--"

Vile grabbed X by the shoulders, his grip tight, but gentle as he asserted forcefully, "You didn't do anything to deserve it. I don't care what you did, you didn't _deserve_ that." X stared, unable to think of a reply, grass green eyes wide. Vile loosened his grip on X's arms, reaching back up to touch the smaller Reploid's marred cheek once more. X cringed, shying away. "...it hurts to see you like this." X blinked, cautiously lifting his gaze back up to the Maverick Commander. "It hurts to see you so frightened of a touch. I hate seeing you like this."

"...why would it make any difference to you?" X found himself asking.

"...because..." Vile started, trailing off nervously, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it back out, "...because..." His voice lowered to barely a whisper. "...I love you..." X could only stare at him, confused, unsure what to think. He had never had those words directed at him before, not even from Zero. He wanted to believe them -- wanted to believe them with all his heart -- but could not let himself. How could he trust the word of a Maverick? "I know you don't believe me," Vile spoke after a moment, as if reading X's thoughts, "And I wish I knew how to prove it to you."

"Let me see your face," was the sudden reply. Vile blinked. "No one's ever seen your face before," X continued, trying to keep his voice from shaking, "...if you mean what you said...that means you trust me enough to let me see your face." Vile blinked again, still taken slightly aback, but barely hesitated, removing his hands from X's shoulders and reaching up, slowly removing the concealing helmet.

Pale, alabaster skin emerged from the confining shadows of the helmet, violet eyes the same shade as his armor, the outer rim of his irises lined and blended with dark blue like the ocean, jet black hair left cut short, bangs barely sliding over his eyes. His face was flawless save for one thing. A large, dark grey mark -- a tattoo, X realized -- covered the skin over his left eye. It was shaped into an abstract image of a canine's head, the ears trailing just to his forehead, nose ending halfway down his cheek.

X stared, blinking. He had not quite expected Vile to comply so readily -- in fact, he had not expected Vile to comply at all. Nor had he expected the Maverick commander to be so...well...handsome. He did not know what he had thought Vile looked like, but the Maverick's true appearance was still a small surprise.

"Believe me, now?" Vile asked. X tried to answer, but could not find his voice, staring up at him. Vile reached up and gently cupped X's chin, carefully stroking his cheeks with his fingers and thumb. "I never wanted to fight you," he whispered, blue-violet eyes staring into grass green, "Never wanted to hurt you..." X blinked. Was Vile's face closer than it had been a moment ago? "And I can't stand the thought of Zero beating you..." X's head tilted to the side on its own just before Vile leaned down further...

...and kissed him.

It was nothing like the harsh, bruising contact he was used to from Zero. He suddenly felt warm and almost wistful combined with several other emotions he could not remember ever feeling before. The Maverick commander's touch was light as a feather, so gentle it was as if he was afraid X would shatter like glass if his touch was too rushed. After what seemed like an eternity, however, Vile pulled back, blue-violet eyes searching for an answer in X's grass green, an answer to whether or not the smaller Reploid trusted him.

X merely stared up at him for a moment. His eyes were stinging and his chest felt constricted, yet he also felt relieved and somehow happy. His throat was dry, making it impossible for him to speak for a moment. However, he finally replied, blinking at an all too familiar wetness on his cheeks.

"...I believe you..."

* * * * *

The corridors of Maverick Hunter Headquarters were abnormally quiet. The only time they were ever this quiet was either when most of the Hunters were on a mission, or the majority were in the training field. Either way, it was a soothing silence as he made his way to his quarters.

It had been nearly two weeks since he had mysteriously arrived back at the Headquarters after his kidnapping. He had been bombarded with questions as to how he had escaped, but he had refused to answer as even he was not sure. His only guess was that Vile had taken him back while he had slept, curled up safely in Vile's arms. He knew it had not been just a dream if only for the memory of that night. The memory of the kiss and of Vile later guiding him to the bed...and the actions that followed. Since he had returned, Dr. Cain had given X a month long suspension, refusing to allow him to go on any missions. He called it a vacation, but X knew he had been suspended. He did not mind.

X looked up as he heard footsteps to see Zero walking towards him, back straight and dignified as always, blonde mane swaying behind him.

"Meet me in my quarters later," was the simple order as Zero walked past him. X's gaze shifted to the floor. He knew what Zero wanted, Vile's words echoing in the back of his mind, reminding him that he did not deserve to be treated like a common whore.

"No."

Zero stopped in mid-step, just a few paces behind X. He looked over his shoulder, aquamarine eyes narrowing at the defiance. "What?"

"No," X repeated, keeping his back to the crimson Reploid. He bit back a small yelp as Zero grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around to face him, glaring down at him.

"Don't defy me, X," Zero reprimanded, a trace of a growl echoing in the back of his throat, "Remember what happened the last time."

X straightened, head tilted back to look the larger Reploid in the eyes as he stated simply, "You can't order me anymore."

Sharp pain stung his cheek as his head snapped to the side, barely wincing even from the force of the blow. He hesitated a moment before returning the punch with one of his own, catching Zero off guard and making the blonde Reploid stumble back a step. Aquamarine eyes stared at him, surprised and taken aback. X straightened once more and narrowed his eyes.

"I'm not your lapdog anymore."

X turned on his heel and continued on his way down the hall, leaving Zero staring after him, dumbfounded. X entered his quarters and locked the door behind him, heaving out a sigh as he sank down onto his bed. He raised a hand and rubbed his cheek where Zero had hit him, then glanced down at the hand he had used to counter the strike.

He was no longer Zero's slave to be called on whenever Zero wanted him to sleep with him or to be his punching bag. He flexed his hand, balling it into a fist for a moment before relaxing it again, and smiled.

He knew Vile would be proud of him.


End file.
